


Romance

by wanderingsmith



Series: Love is [4]
Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-02-18
Updated: 2009-02-18
Packaged: 2017-10-08 09:27:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,900
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/75240
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wanderingsmith/pseuds/wanderingsmith
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>..she stood in front of the mirror and smiled at the effect, pleased at the rarely-indulged seduction props.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Romance

**Author's Note:**

> since I some other things to write before I sit and clean this up properly... smut was repeatedly requested.. so smut I provide..

It was a beautiful night. Just enough breeze to make the skin enjoy the warmth. The moon shining hugely over the rippling water.

Magical. Or romantic, John had to add to the thought. If his lady had been of a romantic bent he'd probably have been very tempted to arrange a midnight rendezvous here and see what the gesture got him. As it was, he'd dragged his favourite chair out, set Atlantis to watch the munchkins for him and was enjoying the peace. The last he'd heard, Elizabeth had another hour of paperwork -which meant three-, and he knew for a fact that Rodney was almost done his latest project, which probably meant he'd be appearing in her office to show it off. Or complain about it failing.

Either way, John was in for a lonely night and intended to enjoy what he could of it.

####

Elizabeth sighed happily as she heard the door slide shut behind her. She'd managed to abandon her paperwork without feeling guilty and had already warned Katie that if she saw or heard Rodney before 0900 tomorrow, she was going to make him work with Radek for a month. The botanist had no wish to listen to her husband complain quite that much and would make sure that he was too busy tonight to bother anyone.

A last stop in the kitchen to snag the chocolate deserts she'd had reserved and she was home free with nothing to come between her and her plans. She could see the shadow of John's chair out on their balcony and grinned, deciding that that was a serendipitous touch. A little surprised that he wasn't up and questioning her early rival, she pussy-footed up to him and found him snoozing peacefully. It was almost irresistible to lean over and kiss his forehead, but she wanted to use the time and he had a habit of waking up when she got near him, so she ignored the tug and went to check the kids, have a quick shower and change into her almost never-worn negligee.

Dark green natural silk from some planet John hadn't gotten evicted from yet, she could feel its touch on her skin as she moved, glad it was so warm tonight that she could wear it on its own. It almost covered her shoulders, but V-ed down below her breasts and just reached her knees.

*Not* 'practical'. But sexy; and John adored it. Watching her walk in the simple body-cut with hidden slits and running the rough pads of his fingers over the gentle material; watching her shudder as he stroked her through the clingy silk.

With her hair long again and left finger-wild after the shower, she stood in front of the mirror and smiled at the effect, pleased at the rarely-indulged seduction props. Pleased that she still looked good after 3 kids and too many long, stressful days. It was all fine for John to make a fuss that she was beautiful and sexy, but sometimes reminding *herself* was far more convincing than her loving husband who had unabashed ulterior motives for bringing up any variation of the word sex...

Grabbing her deserts, she snuck back out, dropped the box in his lap and gently sat herself on John's thigh, wrapping an arm around his neck as he blinked awake.

"Elizabeth?" he cleared his throat of the sleep-rasp as she wiped the little track of drool down the side of his mouth with a grin, "You're early."

Hearing the happy surprise in his voice, she was glad she'd followed through on her plans, and the hands sneaking to her hip and under the silk to her thigh only reinforced the advantages of taking time off. She leaned in against the wing of the chair, content to exchange smiles as her body settled into the familiar contours of his, "I'm playing hooky to spend time with some gorgeous guy I know."

John chuckled, his hands teasing by staying in relatively innocent territory, even though the outfit was an open invitation, "Yeah? Lucky guy."

"Ummhumm. His wife has a habit of leaving him alone to take care of the kids, I feel kinda sorry for him..."

The hand at her hip smoothed up her side to the back of her head and pulled her down for soft, glancing kisses, his words whispered among them, "I think. I know. Him. He's. Happy. Loves. His busy wife. Like crazy." By the time he was done, Elizabeth was contentedly melted into him, warmth twisting in her belly as his fingers teased the short hairs at the juncture of her thighs. He lifted his lips, grinning slightly, "Elizabeth?"

Ignoring the interruption, she trailed little kisses up his cheek as her free hand leisurely stroked up and down his chest over his uniform cotton shirt, enjoying the tactile feel of the stiff material, and the warm muscles underneath her palm, "Umm?"

The hand at her waist pulled out, "Why is there a box in my lap?"

She looked down as he lifted it from where it had slid to the front of his pants and grinned, realizing just why he'd suddenly noticed it, "Because I brought desert."

"Ah." He shifted her carefully so he could lean over and lay it on the ground, "Later. I want my main meal first."

As they settled back again, Elizabeth hesitated and looked over his shoulder, "Can you get Atlantis to keep our little visitors from sneaking in?" It was very handy to have an omnipresent babysitter sometimes; allowed romance-minded parents to not be restricted to a locked bedroom.

He grinned, "Already done, I think Atlantis is trying to get forgiven for the hide and seek episode. They're all sleeping quietly."

"Good." She leaned in to run her tongue along his grin, her hand slipping down to shape itself to his aroused flesh, listening to his groan as she very slowly played her fingers over the heavy bulge against his zipper. His hand sneaked back under her negligee, but with a more distracted motion, like his sloppy response to her kiss; his attention completely focused on the ministration of her fingers.

Elizabeth settled comfortably against him, teasing his lips to follow her as she continued to caress, slow and light, ignoring the thrust of his pelvis and the undertone of moan in his throat. When he hinted that she shift so he could sneak between her thighs, she smiled against his lips instead, resisting the call of throbbing flesh, "Open your shirt."

It took a second for his brain to catch up, but then he shifted his hand to undo his buttons, stumbling at the work. Watching his pale skin appear out the corner of her eye, dark hairs narrowing over his ribs to point to her hand's current playground, she squeezed her thighs, feeling a burst of pleasure. As soon as he was done, she slid her splayed hand back up, wanting his skin and the flex of muscles. Indulging her need to touch him gave him the occasion to take more control, deepening their kiss and teasing at her mound until she opened her legs enough for him to slide his fingers in.

It was her turn to moan as he ran a determined stroke next to her clitoris and over her swollen lips. She'd wanted to stay and stroke him for a while longer, but he was going to derail her plan if she let him play much longer. Still, she couldn't quite make herself move away from his knowing touch for a minute, feeling his pulse speed under her palm, feeling his nipple as hard as hers. Even as she had the thought, he pulled out of the kiss and slid his lips down her neck, his finger stroking steadily as he nosed the silk aside and slid his hot mouth right over her right breast.

Rocking helplessly against his fingers and the suction of his lips, Elizabeth barely remembered she'd meant this to go another way. But she *did* remember finally, and slid her hand back down to wrap around his cock, catching her breath as he jerked and his movements stuttered. Before he could distract her again, she pulled his lips up to hers for a quick kiss, then whispered, "Not this time. Let me." She stroked his wrist to encourage his so skilled fingers away as he looked up.

"Elizabeth?" He gave her a bewildered look, letting her go reluctantly.

She just winked as she slid off his lap and down to her knees between his legs, teasingly crooking her finger at him so he'd slide his hips closer to the chair's edge. Aware as he shifted closer to her that she was very wet and very hungry for him herself. She slid her hands up his thighs to his crotch, feeling decadent as her breast swung, still free, with her movement. Feeling powerful as he watched her intently, his hands clenched on the arms of the chair.

She could feel his breath catch as her hands met over his aroused cock, ever so slowly undoing his zipper, spending more time teasing than working. When she pulled the flaps aside, Elizabeth chuckled, "Commando.. colonel?"

He responded to her grin with a slightly embarrassed shrug and lip-quirk, "Was planning to go to bed pretty- soon." His voice strangled on a gasp as she lowered her lips to slowly slide her mouth over the thick shaft standing up in the opening of his pants.

She could feel his belly stiffen and stroked her fingers lightly over the corded muscles there, feeling her own jump in time with his. Setting a rhythm that she knew was too gentle for what he wanted, Elizabeth took her time, changing the touch from light glide to suction, to swirling her tongue. All too slow, but allowing her to keep her head tilted just enough to watch him. His head was thrown back as he moaned softly, hair crumbled against the back of the chair, body twisting minutely but constantly, searching for relief, wide-open shirt leaving his skin gleaming in moonlight, shadowed with dark hairs.

And engorged penis wavering as she changed her movement to sliding down the underside, suckling and licking around it as though he would melt.

"'Lizabeeethhhhh!" His eyes had opened and he glared mutinously at her teasing.

Grinning and licking even more slowly, she nonetheless distracted him by bringing a hand down to massage her breast, moaning at her own soft pinch on her too-tight nipple. The way he stopped breathing and stared, twitching under her lips, would have made her laugh if she wasn't so much more interested in 'other' things.

Too aroused to enjoy the play, she pulled away from him, shifting her other breast also free, both pushed together now by the V of the material. With a heated look, she leaned forward and slid his cock between, rocking her body back and forth as he watched, wide-eyed and panting, hips jerking not quite in sync with her. She leaned down and, when the slide brought the head up, swiped her tongue at the pale pre-cum seeping from the slit, closing her lips and suckling quickly on the next pass.

She was tempted to reach a hand down and bring herself off as the braising heat coiled tight at her clit; he was moaning incoherent words, his whole body hard as his hips pumped desperately, and every sound and every touch of rock-hard muscle was making her pulse. She'd just gotten a quick stroke in when he stiffened, strangling a groan as she leisurely sucked at the twitching tip of his cock, spurting foamy come on the slopes of her breasts.

He was still moaning softly under his breath and she watched as his body relaxed, dropping to the chair, his head lolling back for a minute. Looking utterly disheveled and completely gorgeous. Sweaty and starting to grin as he opened his eyes to look at her, he reached a hand down to her, his shirt opening wide. Pulling her up to crouch on his lap. One hand behind her neck angled her lips for a hungry kiss that she returned even more intimately, feeling his other hand slide down to fondle her vulva, shuddering and insistently thrusting her tongue in his mouth as he touched her clit.

She moaned a protest as he pulled his head back to ask, "You?"

When she shook her head and rocked into his hand as a hint, John slid his arms around her to lift her as he first rose, then laid her in the chair. She lounged back as he took her place on his knees, tugging her hips forward and watching as her nighty rolled up, gorging his eyes on this image of his wife. Hair wild and still damp, eyes dark shadows watching him back fiercely.

He swallowed as he lowered his eyes, her breasts laying on top of the deep green silk. Glistening. It wasn't often he admitted to himself how primitively possessive he felt of her, but moments like this, when there was nothing of the formal diplomat left, only the very sexually beautiful woman who trusted him with her completely exposed self, who unselfishly gave him pleasure, these were the moments he relished seeing his semen on her skin. When he knew he would live or die for her; without hesitation.

Her hips rocked up, 'encouraging' his attention to her very wet, visibly swollen flesh and John bared his teeth, breathing deeply as he leaned down, absently feeling her legs slide over his shoulders. He slid his tongue along the old C-section scar, hearing her breath catch; aside from the fact that she knew very well how the memory of her pregnancies made him crazy to touch, taste and pleasure her, she was also sensitive over that smooth skin; anything but a firm touch would have her ticklish no matter how aroused she was.

"Johnnn."

He finally lowered his mouth down as she moaned his name in anguish, his thumb gliding over her swollen lips, skating past her entrance until his tongue reached her nub. Then he gently slid his index finger in, reveling in how wet she was and starting to suckle. She was already tightening on him, her body tensing, the walls around his finger flexing and shivering, harder and deeper as he worked his tongue on her. It only took a few minutes, stroking his finger upward to where his tongue played, and it was clamped, her legs stiffening into his back, pulling him close as she cried out breathlessly, just barely low enough not to wake inquisitive little persons.

Elizabeth was languorous, heat running under her skin as tiredness tempted her to sleep. She felt John gently unhook her legs and opened her eyes to watch him. His shirt was hanging loose, exposing his chest to unhindered view as his head lifted and he met her eyes, grinning. She grinned back, seeing the trace of moisture around his lips and on his chin, "We're looking a little debauched, my colonel."

The way his eyes trailed over her, lingering on her breasts, his expression possessive, made her nipples tighten again, "You are looking absolutely beautiful, my diplomat."

Before she could argue the claim, he started to get up, only to swear between clenched teeth, taking his weight off one leg to straighten it behind him. She leaned down to give him a hand, shaking her head, "You never *will* learn to give that knee of yours a break, will you?"

He glared down at the offending limb as he accepted her help up and then scooped her, dropping into the seat with her across his lap, silk sliding on bare skin, "I *have* let up on it. I cheerfully stay out of the field, I even go easy training recruits. But I *refuse* to let the leftover mess from some damned neanderthal's arrow interfere with making love to my wife!"

Elizabeth just chuckled in response to his indignant look; he *had* taken the injury far more calmly in stride than anyone had expected, she really had no place to complain. On the other hand, after three years, it was as good as it was going to get; *was*, as a matter of fact, going to get worst as he got older, and it was her job to try to get him to accept that.

But not tonight, she thought as he leaned down with a very acquisitive expression. And then she moaned at the pulse deep inside her as he slowly licked his semen from the slopes of her breasts. By the time he was satisfied, one of his hands had slid under her negligee and come to rest with his palm over her mound. As much as she suddenly wanted more, she made herself stay still as he lifted his head again.

Then she leaned over and fetched the desert box. Opening it with a smirk, she dipped a finger in and then smeared the dollop of creamy mouse in the hollow of his throat, winking at his wry expression, "*My* desert, I'll eat it any way I want."

Sex and desert. They were going to need showers before bed and the chair cover and all their clothe needed to be washed. All signs of a successful evening in her book.


End file.
